If you do not have children then I will warn you now that you will consider me a callous bitch after reading this. However if you have children you will completely relate and hopefully want to take me out for drinks. Soon.
I wake up to a Fruit By The Foot being thrown in my face and a small human jumping on my stomach screaming "Mommy you are squishy." The day progressively got more eventful with a morning full of back talking and arguing from a sixteen year old disguising herself in a eight year old body. Mr. Squishy then proceeds to get angry that he can't eat the whole box of sugar rolls for lunch and punches me in my squishy butt. Time out number one. Let said child out of his room and get pegged in the back with Matchbox car. Time out number two. Attempt at getting out of the house to visit family takes longer than a professional boxing match with about as much cooperation. Car ride is full of rhyming which sounds adorable, but is not because it sounds like this..."Poop, scoop, pee, me, fart, heart". Potty talk turns into potty in the pants and we have wet pant scenario one. Change into pajama pants at 4 in the afternoon and pray that children want naps after eating five pounds of marshmallows with grandpa. Drive back home to boobing about not being able to sleep because people are breathing too loud which gets younger sibling interested in doing more than just breathing. To wrap this all up I will tell you there was one more pee pants, two more time outs and one serious crying session. No I wasn't the one crying although that seems logical.
Pregnancy was the easiest part of raising kids and today I was very grateful that I sent my husband in four years ago to have another man assess his junk. Swollen balls are a small price to pay to know that one day we will have only two wonderful adult children that can change their own pee pants.
No comments:
Post a Comment